


just hold me.

by LJT



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Depression, Roommates, Sad Clarke, references to coming out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LJT/pseuds/LJT
Summary: "Tell me, what can I do?""Hold me." Clarke whispers, her voice breaking. "Just... Just hold me, please?"Lexa wraps her arms around her and pulls her in. "It's gonna be okay."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, you!  
> I should be sleeping or writing for one of my other stories, I know. But this has been in my head all day and just wouldn't leave me alone, so here I am. It's close to midnight, I'm sitting in my bed and I wrote this in not even twenty minutes. But hey, I wrote something! :D Maybe it'll lead somewhere, who knows, right? I'm thinking about 4-5 chapters in total, but it depends on you :)
> 
> Tell me your thoughts, please? 
> 
> WARNING: this is really dark, at least the first part. But there'll be a happy ending. I promise.
> 
> Love,  
> LJT.  
> PS: it's probably a mess :D  
> \-----

...

It’s late again. Too late for her, considering she’s already got trouble sleeping, and tons of work, responsibilities and obligations that keep weighing her down.

Her shoulders ache for no apparent reason, and her hands are cold, but she keeps staring at the blank page in front of her. She doesn’t want to go to bed. The bed’s empty and cold and it always gets bad at night, because there’ll follow a morning afterwards. Another day filled with unhappiness and that… weight on her shoulders. 

She used to love the nights. Sitting on the window sill, watching people passing by in the streets, listening to the silence, writing for hours and hours on end. Not anymore.

It’s been weeks since she uploaded anything she was proud of, weeks since she wrote anything that matters – if she ever wrote anything that matters at all. All she manages are drabbles, not fitting anywhere. And most of it sounds too sad to be shared.

Her phone vibrates in the front pocket of that old worn out hoodie she’s been wearing for way too many days, and she pulls it out to find a message from one of her two best friends.

**Rae: hey, how was your day?**

Clarke slumps back into her armchair. She’s too tired to answer, but she does, and she keeps lying – to herself, to her friend. It’s not like the truth matters.

**Clarke: it was okay. Yours?**

**Rae: it was great. :)  
Rae: I bought a present for O’s birthday btw. **

Clarke sighs. She totally forgot about that. She stares at the message for a long while, trying to think of an answer. 

**Clarke: that’s cool! Still need to do that…**

**Rae: I’ll head to bed, gotta get up at 7 tomorrow. Sinclair’s the devil himself.**

**Clarke: you like him. Sweet dreams <3**

**Rae: you’re right. Night :)**

And then there’s that familiar feeling of loneliness again. The anger at her friend for not sensing how dark everything feels, for not seeing right through that flat „okay“ she has replied with. She begs for Raven to notice, even though she can’t, because she’s using the same fucking emojis she’s always using, and that’s the irony of texting. People share everything with others, and yet they don’t. 

She begs and prays and then she’s still angry at her friend for not knowing – but how would they?

She debates calling her, anyone really, but she decides it’s not worth it.

Instead she shuts off her phone, skips changing into her pajamas because it would take too much energy, and slips under the covers and sheds a few tears like every night, before she drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

—- 

The next morning she tries to ignore the chirpy good morning text she received from Raven, and she ignores the one from Octavia too.

She reads a comment on one of her old stories, and for a moment she’s happy and smiling. It last about five minutes. She debates taking a shower but decides against it. It’s not like she could wash away the feelings anyways. And then she skips breakfast because it’s too much work to make herself some, and she’s not that hungry.

Around noon she finally replies, unable to not reach out to them, even though she doesn’t want to. They’re her friends. They don’t know how she feels, but it’s not their fault. It’s her own, she knows. 

They don’t answer immediately, only late at night. In the meantime, Clarke’s head starts spinning, and she’s scared that something happened to them, she’s scared she’s just not important to them anymore, that they leave her because she’s too sad or too boring. 

Then she realizes they don’t know she's sad. 

And again, she feels stupid.

—-

That’s pretty much how she spends the rest of her week.

On Friday they meet up at Octavia’s favorite Greek restaurant for her birthday. It’s somewhat like a tradition for them, and she finds herself laughing and smiling throughout the evening. She eats too much, and she’s embarrassed when she orders dessert. The waitress must think she’s crazy. 

Shyly she meets the brunette’s gaze when she speaks. 

And that’s when something snaps. 

Green. Unbelievably piercing, green eyes. Never has she seen eyes this green. This vibrant. 

And a smile that lets her heart stutter. 

The thoughts have been there. More than once. Ever-present, in the back of her head, carefully being tiptoed around. She’s read too many fanfics, she crushes on way too many female celebrities, and she writes way too many lesbian centered fanfics.

But that girl...

No. 

Clarke ignores it. For the rest of the night she fights hard to suppress all those confused and tumultuous thoughts. Instead she smiles when she needs to, she laughs and jokes with her friends, just like she’s supposed to. Like she always does. 

Only when she gets in her car and drives home, to that house where her Mom’s surely still up and waiting for her, she realizes she can’t keep this up anymore. 

She just… 

Can’t. 

She pulls over, stops the car and the tears already fall. She cries like there’s no tomorrow, like she’s got an ocean of tears in her heart that she desperately needs to get out. Maybe because it is. 

That girl. 

The future. 

Life. 

Everything feels wrong and too much.

Her sight is blurry when she reaches for her phone, and she types out three different messages, but she sends none. It’s pathetic. She feels pathetic. 

That girl… no. She can’t be. 

Clarke arrives home two hours later and heads straight to bed, still thinking about green eyes. Her throat feels scorched from all the sobbing, her eyes are puffy and she’s so tired she can barely stand. 

Tired. Always tired. 

And on the edge. She gets angry about the little things. A question, a look. At her Mom for bringing her laundry. 

She cries in the middle of a drive, when a certain song comes on and a line speaks too much truth. She cries in a coffeeshop, tucked away in a corner. She cries in her bed at 3 a.m. because she just wants to sleep and she can’t, and she doesn’t want to, but in the end she does. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Her search history tells a dark story, one that can’t be hers. It can’t be hers, because then she would be close to self-destruction and depression, and she’s not any of that, right? She’s got no reason to. 

Sure, she might be into girls. That’s a lot to take in. Maybe it’s this truth that she has been missing, that piece of her that completes her puzzle. She never felt complete, but she blamed that on not knowing where she wants to take her life, what she wants to do with it, who she is. 

But none of that is a good enough reason to feel that bad, right?

No. She’s just sad and lost. 

All the time. 

-

She crawls into her bed, clutching an old stuffed animal against her chest like a small child afraid of a storm. It’s that night that she hurts herself for the first (and so far only) time. And she doesn’t even hurt herself, right? Not really.

 **Clarke: hey, did you get home safe? <3 **

She writes that and hopes Raven’s still up, and that they’ll maybe text some more. Maybe she hopes Raven will send another stupid gif like she always does, a joke or really just a picture of a puppy. Raven’s got a thing for puppies, but really – who doesn’t? 

**Rae: I did. I’m pretty tired though. I’ll head to bed soon.**

And just like that sadness is closing in on her again, and so she hits the wall next to her. Once. Twice. 

It hurts in a good way.

She feels guilty for it. And worthless. And pathetic. 

**Clarke: sweet dreams then <3 **

**Rae: you too! Love ya! <3**

**Clarke: love you too. <3 **

And she hits the wall again. And again. And again. Until her knuckles bleed. 

It feels good, for a moment. Only a moment. 

\----

It’s been a few weeks since that night, and she thought she’s better, but the truth is it’s a constant up and down. Short highs and too many lows. 

She’s exhausted even though she hasn’t done anything all day. Literally. 

She’ll return to college tomorrow, and it’s going to be a needed distraction. She packed up her things in the early morning, and she had the house to herself since after lunch, because her Mom had to head to the hospital, so she could do what she wanted. She spent too much time in the shower, just sitting on the floor and reveling in the warmth of the water running down her back. Then she sat motionless on the couch, watching mindless shows and staring out the window. 

It’s sounds bad, she knows it. But she’s actually been okay these past weeks, she’s just scared of having to live with a bunch of roommates. She’s never been a people’s person, being not good at socializing and stuff. Parties, boys… she didn’t understand it’s purpose. 

Maybe it’s because she’s into girls. Too, at least. That’s something she’s sure of by now. 

She thinks about that girl at the restaurant. Her green eyes are all she really remembers, but just thinking about it helps. 

Clarke sighs and lets her head fall back against the sofa cushions. 

Last year she got to live in a single dorm. This year she’s going to be living with Raven, Octavia and another girl she hasn’t met yet. Lexa Woods is her name. 

It’s going to be okay. They’re her friends, they love her. She knows they do.

She sighs again, before she gets up and grabs a bag of chips from the kitchen. That’s her go-to food whenever she’s stressed, and lets just say: stressed is her state of mind all the time. That’s why she’s gained weight, and it only makes her dislike herself even more, but she’s got other things on her mind. More important things. 

Just a week ago she told Raven about probably being into girls too. Raven said it doesn’t matter, and Clarke believes her. It was an honest and truthful answer. But why does it feel like it’s not enough?

She even came out to her Mom last weekend. 

It wasn’t really a coming out. She added a maybe in front of being into girls, because she’s a chicken. 

Abby reacted great, she said all the right things, about loving her no matter what gender the person she ends up with has. Well, she said all that before adding she can’t imagine Clarke ending up with a girl. But it’s okay she supposes. Could’ve been worse. 

It still feels like it isn’t enough. Only why? What is it she’s waiting for?

\---

And then she’s suddenly in their new apartment, and she stares at her new roommate.

 _No_ , she thinks as her eyes meet green. 

It’s her. 

Lexa Woods is the green-eyed girl that turned her world upside down with just a look. Lexa Woods is the girl she’s been thinking about more often than she’s willing to admit. But mostly, Lexa Woods is the girl that made Clarke accept that she’s definitely NOT straight. 

“Hey.” The girl says, smiling wide and open at her. “I’m Lexa.”

“H-hi.” She stutters, and after a moment she extends a hand. “I'm... I'm Clarke. Clarke Griffin.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you! You seem… familiar?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, before she averts her gaze and focuses on the boxes Lexa has put on the floor next to the door. She’s unable to process the new information and the feeling of total overload that comes with it, so she tries to ground herself with something simple. “Can I help you with anything?”

“That would be great!”

That evening she learns three things.

1\. Lexa Woods is stunning in all ways one can be stunning. She’s goddamn beautiful. She’s dorky, funny, a little nerdy maybe, and her laughter is the most perfect sound Clarke has ever heard. She’s aware it sounds like a cliché, but there are butterflies in her stomach and she honestly never thought she’d feel that way. Never. And it makes her happy, like really happy, and just thinking about that makes her want to cry. She’s really fucked up.

2\. Smiling and laughing feels too good to be true. It’s been so long since she let loose and felt carefree. Maybe she never really did.

3\. If she had any doubts about her sexuality, then they’re officially out the door now. She’s into girls. A hundred percent. And she might have a crush on Lexa. Might have as in she definitely has. And it feels good. 

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys,  
> thank you for the feedback so far! 
> 
> This is... phew. I don't even know how to say this.  
> This story has somehow gotten really personal - at least the first chapter. Fun fact: I didn't realize it until long after I posted it. Yup. Really.  
> I feel like it's been some kind of a cathartic breakthrough for me to write that, and with the last chapter you know more about me than most of my friends do. So much for that. I'm not ready to voice anything further than this, but it's a step, and I'm slowly getting somewhere. And I feel like I owe you and this fandom, that has gifted me with great friendships and overwhelming feedback too. So thank you <3
> 
> Here is the second chapter. Let me know your thoughts :) 
> 
> Love,  
> Laura.  
> ____

...

Living with other people has its perks. 

For example: she’s not alone anymore. 

And... no. That’s it. She’s not alone, not physically, and sometimes that helps.

But it has also got its disadvantages. 

For example: she’s not alone anymore. She can’t shower for an indefinite amount of time. She cannot not eat regularly without them noticing. She can’t wear the same things for days without them noticing. She can only cry silently, and only at night. She can’t get lost in her thoughts and the worlds she creates in her head without anyone noticing. But most of all, she can’t feel at ease with her sad self that she’s grown to accept.

Her friends are loud. Louder than she likes it, but it’s not something she can change. 

There’s Raven, the literal genius with looks to die for. She’s majoring in both astrophysics and mechanical engineering. She’s loud, and cheeky, but pretty entertaining if you’re in a good mood. She always talks about boys, especially that one guy in one of her classes. Shaw or something. She’s her oldest and best friend, but Clarke honestly doesn’t really know why. 

Then there’s Octavia. She’s a health nut, a sports freak and she’s got that intimidating stare going on, that makes Clarke want to hide out in her room. She’s got a soccer stipendium, and majors in psychology, and both of that adds to that daunting vibe. And she's got freaking abs. Clarke finds herself insecure and self-conscious around them. It has always been this way, and she could deal with it just fine. Until she couldn’t. 

And then there’s Lexa. The soon to be teacher, who seems so confident in everything she does.

Lexa. Lexa. Lexa. 

She’s everywhere. In the bathroom, where her perfume hits Clarke like a speed wagon every morning. In the kitchen, where she makes those delicious muffins and cookies in her free time. In the living room, where her comics lie around and her dvd collection completes Raven’s impressive one. She’s in the hallway because of the stupid little doormat she bought. She's in the corridor between their rooms, because she can’t (for the life of her) put away her damn chucks. She's everywhere. 

But mostly she’s in Clarke’s head. All. The. Time. 

And Clarke can’t seem to fit in with any of them. She just isn’t as loud and bold as her friends. She’s not one who dances in the middle of a street, just because she can. No. She hides away in embarrassment. She’s quiet and shy, and she locks herself away in her room most of the time. She is studying literature and philosophy for god’s sake. She scribbles notes on every piece of paper she can find. She doesn’t do parties. She has admittedly only kissed one boy, and that was for a stupid game of truth and dare at a party Raven dragged her to back in high school. It doesn’t even count as a real kiss. She doesn’t use makeup, not really anyways. She probably owns more hoodies and sweatpants than the rest of the girls own together. Compared to them she looks like a potato. 

And she’s sad all the time, even though they’re really great to live with. 

Sad. Sad. Sad. 

\---

It’s been three weeks since they moved in together. Classes have started, and it’s good enough the keep her busy. She reads and writes a lot and watches Netflix even more often. She tells herself it’s for research, but in fact it’s the only way she can drown her thoughts. 

When she doesn’t do any of that, she’s hung up on YouTube. Watching coming out videos and stories, trying to figure out her sexuality. Boys are great. But girls are too. And one of them is living right next door, literally. 

“Hey, weirdo.” Raven greets her as she flops down on her bed all of the sudden. 

Clarke looks up from her book. She’s gotten used to having zero privacy around Raven years ago, so she’s not even surprised. 

“There’s a party tonight. You coming?” 

Clarke shakes her head, pulling up her blanket a little further. Just the thought of a party, of sweaty bodies and the smell of alcohol makes her feel sick. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No thanks.” She mutters. 

Raven rolls her eyes. “You need to go out more, you know that?”

“She said no, Raven.” Lexa’s voice sounds unusually sharp, and she’s got her arms crossed as she leans in the doorframe of Clarke’s room. 

“I heard it, I just thought-”

“I know what you thought. But not everyone wants to go to parties.”

“You’re lame.” Raven shoots back, but she gets up and leaves them be. 

“Thanks.” Clarke mumbles, eyes not meeting Lexa‘s. 

Lexa shrugs, before turning on her heels. A moment later the door to her room falls shut and then there’s music for an hour. Until there isn’t. 

Clarke waits for a couple more minutes, and then she decides to grab a snack. 

She's surprised to find Lexa on the couch, her phone in one hand and a bag of chips close to the other. 

“Hey.” Lexa greets her with a smile. 

“Hey.”

“Do you maybe want to watch a movie?”

She doesn’t, not really, so she just shrugs. Her go-to-answer for everything these days. 

“We could order pizza. I’m kinda hungry.” 

The mention of proper food is what makes her smile, even if just for a split second. “That sounds great.”

“What do you want?”

“Cheese.”

“Only cheese?”

“Cheese makes everything better.” She replies. 

A beaming smile lights up Lexa’s (perfect) face. “You’re right about that.” 

\--- 

Pizza nights become a thing. Once or twice a week they settle on the couch when the other girls are out. Eventually Lexa gets Clarke to watch Lord of Rings (she’s still scared) and later even Star Wars. 

Her Dad loves everything universe-related, which is why Clarke hasn’t watched the movies before. It was her silent way of protesting. Jake Griffin is probably one of the many reasons Clarke doesn’t trust easily. He’s the unavailable kind of person, always busy with his own stuff and projects. He's not a bad father, not at all, but she can count the compliments she received from her Dad on one hand. 

Her Mom is the exact opposite. She always shares her thoughts with Clarke, she’s warm and a mother hen most of the time. She loves her Mom, don’t get her wrong. It’s just too close sometimes. 

When Lexa suggested the movies, Clarke agreed without thinking twice. That’s one of the effects the brunette has on her – spontaneity. Around Lexa, the sadness drifts into the back of her head. It’s easy and calming to be around the other girl, and she finds herself looking for her company even on her bad days. 

They get less though.

Until they don’t. 

One evening, a week before Christmas, Clarke comes home to finding Lexa tangled up with a girl against the apartment door. 

She didn’t know Lexa liked girls. The whole dating and sexuality topic is one of the few they never talked about.

She didn’t know how it felt to get the little hope she had destroyed either. It’s not that she’s in love with Lexa or anything, but she had a crush on her and it’s pretty much the first and only time she had a crush on a real person. So it hurts. A lot. 

Ups and down, right? Yeah. More like little, hopeful bumps on a downhill ride into endless darkness. 

Lexa is too preoccupied to notice Clarke, and so she retracts back into the stairway and returns to the library. It’s a quiet place, and late at night there’s only a few other students. Everyone’s busy, so they don’t notice her trying to dry her silent tears. 

A while later she can feel her phone vibrating in the front pocket of her jeans, and she ignores it for as long as she can. 

**Lexa: hey, where are you? Weren’t we up for a movie night? Text me pls.**

She reads it hunched over some drabbles she wrote about heartbreak. And she fights back more tears. 

**Clarke: sry, got lost in some work. Can we postpone that?**

**Lexa: sure. You okay?**

Clarke lets out a toneless, dry laugh. 

_No, I’m not._

**Clarke: sure. See you later.**

And then she shuts of her phone and throws herself into work. 

\---

Later that evening, when she returns to the apartment close to midnight, only Raven is still up. She’s watching a game show, buried beneath an oversized blanket. 

“You’re home late.” She states, surprise written all over her face. “Did you get laid?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Clarke snaps, and slams her door behind herself. 

She kicks a bag through the room and raises her hand to punch the wall. But then she stops. She’s not _that_ kid, right? 

So she just locks her door and throws herself onto her unmade bed, staring into the great nothing silently, since she’s out of tears. 

\---

She skips classes the next morning just to avoid everyone, fearing that she might snap again if she’s around people. She wants to be close to them, craves a long hug and comfort, but just the thought of letting people touch her makes her want to jump out of her skin.

She hasn’t slept more than two hours the previous night, cursing herself for being so useless. She probably looks like shit, but she hasn’t dared to look in the mirror. 

After lunchtime she’s better. She washes her face, what really helps, and goes to her afternoon classes. She hides away in a booth in the campus coffeeshop for the rest of the day, nibbling on one large cookie for half an eternity because she tells herself she has to eat at least something. 

And then she switches on her phone for the first time that day.

One email from one of her professors. 

Two messages from her Mom. 

And one from each of her roommates. 

**Rae: Hey, I’m sorry if I said something wrong. Are you okay?**

**Lexa: Raven said you skipped classes. Everything okay? You know I’m here, right?**

**O: where are you? We’re a little worried. Text us, pls. we love you <3 **

She drops the rest of the cookie onto the napkin in front of her and sighs. Great. Now she has them worried too. Isn’t that awesome? 

She opens the group chat. 

**Clarke: sry. I just… I had a bad day and now I’m a little behind with classes and stuff. I’ll be home late. Don’t worry about me, I’m good :)**

It’s so easy. 

\---

She’s in her bed, she’s got only a small light on, and she scrolls through a few old comments on one of her first stories. It’s really nice to read them. 

Earlier, she took a long and needed shower, and she actually feels okay now. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts her aimless thoughts, and then Lexa’s head peeks into the room. 

“Hey.” She says softly. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” 

“I just wanted to check on you.”

“I was just-” 

“Busy, I know. You say that a lot.”

Is that an accusation? 

“I just don’t… buy it.” 

“What are you saying?” She sounds more defensive now than she’d like to. 

“We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you can tell me anything?” 

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to make sure you know that.”

“That goes both ways. You know that too?”

Lexa nods. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re into girls then?”

Lexa’s eyes widen. “I… How did you know?”

“I saw you and that girl. It’s not a problem, you know that, right? You could’ve told me.”

Lexa stares at the floor in front of the foot end of Clarke’s bed, shuffling a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know… I don’t exactly have great experiences with telling people.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” She didn’t mean to ask that. She didn’t even mean to say anything. 

Lexa looks up, confusion written all over her face. “You…?”

“I think.” Clarke shrugs, fidgeting with her phone case. Her throat is dry, her heart hammers against her ribcage. 

“It shouldn’t have to feel like that. That big.” Lexa confirms. 

“I’m not sure, I…”

“You don’t have to be.” A pause. Then, “Can I sit?” Lexa points at the bed. 

Clarke nods. “You’re into girls then?”

Lexa chuckles nervously. “Yeah.”

“Only girls?” 

“Yup. I’m gay. A lesbian.”

“I think I’m bi.” Clarke says, her words barely more than a breath, but Lexa hears them nevertheless.

They share a smile. Nervously, but it feels good. Comfortable even. 

“I’m not out yet.” Clarke adds. “I told my Mom about having these thoughts, but I’m not sure she understood that I’m pretty serious about them.”

“I’m out in my hometown. I didn’t want to, but… Someone outed me, right before graduation. My Dad kicked me out.” 

Clarke’s stomach drops. What? “Lex… God, I’m sorry. That’s…”

“Yeah, it sucked. But it happened a while ago.” Lexa shrugs, intertwining her fingers in her lap. “It shouldn’t have to feel like this, right?”

“No.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

Clarke nods with a smile. She’s relieved that she did. “Who’s that girl?”

“Her name’s Costia. We went on a date, but… it didn’t click.”

Clarke has to admit she’s a little happy about that. Just a little. “No?” 

Lexa shakes her head. “She hates movies. And she’s allergic to dogs.” 

“How can you hate movies?”

“I don’t know.”

“Want to watch one?” She isn’t even sure why she suggests it. Maybe because she needs something good today, something that makes her feel normal for a change. 

But when Lexa smiles, she knows it was the right question to ask. 

“I’d love to.” 

They settle next to each other in Clarke’s bed, their backs resting against the massive amount of pillows Clarke has, and pull up Netflix on Clarke’s laptop. 

“How about a little Wynonna Earp?” Lexa suggests. “Now that I finally have someone to talk to about how adorably sexy Nicole really is.”

Clarke laughs – an honest and relaxed laughter. “Yeah. We can do that.” 

Sometimes it’s that easy. 

\---

“You’re close with Lexa.” Raven says quietly a few days later. 

It’s early morning, Octavia is out for a run and Lexa’s still asleep. Clarke just wanted to grab a cup of coffee and then hopefully have a few more minutes to herself, but Raven is already up, unusually early for the girl, and clearly looking for a talk. 

“Not like you think.”

“No?” 

“No. We’re friends.” Clarke turns away from Raven to grab herself a cup of coffee.

“Maybe you should still try going out with girls. See if you like it. Maybe that would help you figuring things out.

“Not everything in life is about dating, Rae.”

“No. But how do you know you’re… into girls if you don’t try it?”

Clarke notices the little pause, but decides not to get angry. It’s not worth the energy. “Can we… not talk about that right now?”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I know you are, and I love you for that. But I’m… I’m not ready.”

“Okay.” Raven nods. 

Clarke starts to turn away, aiming for her room to escape that weird talk, when Raven calls out for her. 

“Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

“I know.”

Logically Clarke does know that. Deep down she even feels the words resonate in her bones. But… It’s hard. It’s hard to accept that people genuinely care about her when all life has offered her so far where little moments of happiness that got ripped away by awful people, by lies and broken promises. People always leave, one way or the other. And she feels like her problems only speed up that progress, so she keeps them to herself. She doesn’t want to be a burden, especially not when all she gets is a limited amount of time. 

“Clarke.” 

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

She turns around again, facing her friend. 

Raven’s got her arms spread wide, and she smiles softly. 

Clarke didn’t know that her pokerface was that bad, she hoped she could avoid this. But Raven noticed despite all her efforts to hide it. Of course she did. She’s her best friend.

Before Clarke knows it, she’s moving and sinks into Raven’s embrace, letting herself be hugged as tightly as she craved it all those weeks. It feels good. Too good almost. 

A tear slip out, and then a second and a third, and then she’s clinging into her friends shirt. 

“Shhh.” Raven soothes her. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

_It’s gonna be okay._ She wants to laugh about it, to tell Raven that she’s just having a bad day, but it would be a lie. And she’s already lying enough. 

“I won’t pretend that I know how you’re feeling. I don’t know about those thoughts that are currently bothering you so much. But everything’s going to be okay. I know that. You’re okay.” 

Clarke nods, desperately trying to hold onto those few little words. 

“Can you say it?”

Clarke sniffs. 

“Can you say: I’m going to be okay? For me?”

“Rae-”

“No. I need you to say it. Just once. Please.”

Clarke pulls back from Raven’s arms, shying away from the embarrassing pep-talk. 

But Raven doesn’t let her go. “Clarke. Say it.”

“Rae-”

“Say it. Do it for me. For yourself.”

Clarke closes her eyes, gritting her teeth. This is stupid. What is it supposed to change, huh? It’s not like a few words make everything better. They won’t make the pain go away. 

“Say it. I’m going to be okay. Just once.” Raven insist, softer this time. Her eyes are pleading, an unusually dark shade of brown. 

It’s worry, Clarke recognizes. She doesn’t want other people to worry. 

“I’m going to be okay.” She mumbles.

“What was that, I didn’t hear it.”

Clarke sighs. “I’m going to be okay.” She repeats then, loud and clear. 

“Yeah. You are.” Raven replies, smiling. “Better?” 

Clarke nods. It’s stupid, but… she actually feels better. Just a little, but definitely better. Lighter, like a piece of the weight that’s been dragging her down these last months has been lifted. She feels like she can breathe easier. How is that possible? 

“I want you to tell that to yourself every time the bad feeling returns, okay?” 

Clarke nods again. 

Only later she’ll question how Raven knew that. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Really <3
> 
> To anyone in a similar situation I just want to say the same thing a really close friend of mine told me: It's gonna be okay. <3  
> I know it's hard to believe.  
> But if you need someone to talk to, a Raven maybe, you know how to find me. I've been told I'm a good listener. And believe it or not, talking actually helps a lot.  
> I think we can make the world a better place if we all just stick together. 
> 
> (yes, I'm feeling rather melancholic today, thank you ;) )


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there :)
> 
> Wow. The feedback is... I don't even know what to say - and I'm usually okay with words :D I'm very VERY GRATEFUL for each and every one of you who takes the time to read this - or any of my stories.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts as always.   
> Love,   
> LJT. 
> 
> PS: little mention of homophobia here, so you're warned.   
> \---

...

Christmas is weird. Well, holidays always are in some ways – people are strangely nice to each other, even to those they don’t like, everyone’s sporting those creepy wide smiles, and there’s too much food. Sure, logically there can’t be too much food. But in the end everyone eats too much and feels sick, so… yeah. Holidays are weird. 

But especially this year, and especially to Clarke. 

Her Dad is stuck inside the house, because it’s too cold for him to stay outside working on his projects all day, which leaves him pacing around the living room nervously when he hasn’t got something to occupy his hands with. It reminds Clarke of her childhood days when he would come in earlier just to spend some time with her. Good old days. Except now he seems like a caged animal instead of the loving father she could need.

Her Mom is excited and hyperactive, always pushing Clarke out of her bubble of procrastination. Do this, do that, why don’t you, … 

It takes a lot of energy to keep up her façade, but she manages to do so mostly thanks to excessive texting with Lexa in every spare minute. 

And then there’s the ever-present fact that she’s not straight. It’s stupid, but it feels like those thoughts are slowly forcing their way into every waking moment, bubbling below the surface only waiting to come out. Clarke often chuckles at the thought. 

For every straight person sexuality isn’t something big. It just… is. But now she finds herself questioning old friendships and memories. Hasn’t she always known that something is different for her?

Christmas morning comes quickly.

She didn’t have any huge wishes, so she receives the usual. Clothes, books, jewelry, gift cards. But she receives a little notepad from Lexa, and to her that’s the most amazing gift. One can never have enough notepads, sure, but it’s from Lexa and it’s so thoughtful and such a nice gesture that she almost starts crying out of joy. That hasn’t happened before.

During the twelve days she spends at home, she only cries four times. Whenever the bad feeling takes over, she does as Raven told her. It’s okay. Not great, sure, but okay. She can deal with okay. It’s progress.

At night she texts with Lexa for hours and hours on end. 

The brunette went to spend the holidays with an old friend from high school and their family, but she doesn’t seem too busy. Clarke makes sure to check if she’s not keeping Lexa from anything. She always double checks everything these days, but she doesn’t want to bother Lexa any further than a normal friendship, so she makes sure to ask. 

They talk about shows, books, food or nothing special at all. But to Clarke every emoji, every picture and every text means the world, because every one of them makes her smile. And smiling actually makes her feel better. One cannot smile and not feel happy – that’s a fact. 

On December 30th, things are different though. The past days have been exhausting, and they’ve stirred up a lot of feelings she can’t deal with right now. 

Her Mom has a lot of expectations, resulting from of the way she does things, how she thinks they need to be done, how she sees or feels something. She’s a good person, that’s out of question, but she’s used to transfer her standards to others and Clarke can’t help but feel unable to fulfil any of her mother’s expectations. The tiniest request that pulls her out of her comfort zone leaves her overwhelmed and on the verge of crying. 

Most of her mother’s expectations are directed at her or her Dad, which sometimes makes it hard to be home. Maybe that’s why he’s always out in his “man cave” as her Mom calls it. He keeps all of his projects there, most of them unfinished and doomed to stay that way for all eternity. He starts something and then loses interest. Maybe it’s the same with her. Maybe that’s why they drifted apart, why he became this unavailable person. 

So many maybes.

But maybe she expects too much. Maybe that’s what ultimately weighs her down all day. She expects – no, expects is actually the wrong word. She wants, yeah that’s it. She wants people to notice her, to see her pain and to put her first for a change. She wants the pretty boy three houses down to see her and send her a smile. She wants him to think of her because she wants people to want her for once. She wants to achieve big things with little effort if possible, just so she can return to her bubble of safety and familiarity. She wants life to be easy. And with doing so she makes it harder.

She should stop having expectations at all. That’s probably the key.

So she tries to be surprised about the texts Lexa or Raven send her during the day or at night. But when Lexa forgets it or falls asleep before that, she’s still sad.

Which is why there’s only one solution. One way to protect herself. It’s the only thing she’s got for sure – herself.

So on December 30th she’s protecting herself by not even stealing a glance at her phone all day. 

**Lexa: good night :) sweet dreams <3**

**Lexa: hey you. What are your plans for today? I’m going to pack up my stuff and head home. It’s gonna be weird having the apartment to myself for the weekend. But maybe I’ll raid Raven’s cracker supplies?**

**Lexa: are you okay?**

**Lexa: clarke? Text me back pls? I’m worried.**

**Lexa: okay, maybe I’m imagining things. Did I do something wrong? Did something happen?**

**Clarke: I’m okay. You don’t need to worry.**

She’s not, but what’s okay anyways.

It's a stupid word. _Okay_. What does it even really mean? Sure, it’s almost impressive that humanity created a word that’s usable in every situation. But if you actually think about it, it’s not impressive at all. It’s sad. And fake. 

_How are you doing? - Okay._

_How does it taste? - Okay._

_Should we order pizza? - Okay._

_How was your day? - Okay._

_I’m going to go home. - Okay._

_Let’s bomb another country. - Okay._

Yeah, the latter is excessive. But it fucking sucks, especially when nothing is ‚okay‘. Nobody ever means to say ‚okay‘, because okay is mediocrity, and who wants that? ‚Okay‘ is also easy. It’s a fucking lie people tell themselves and others, because no one wants to hear the truth. 

_I’m sad and tired and so fucking lost that I’m crying myself to sleep, but that’s not the answer you wanted to hear, right, so I’m telling you it’s okay so that you can feel better and don’t have to deal with my bullshit._

_I can’t tell you how it tastes. You could feed me sand and I wouldn’t be able to tell a difference because everything tastes the same to me._

_No, I don’t want pizza. I don’t want to eat anything because I’m feeling sick all the time, but I feel like I can’t talk to anyone, and I don’t want to worry you, so order whatever you want and leave me be. Please. I’m sorry._

_How I’m feeling? I’m feeling bad. Just... bad._

_No, please don’t leave me. Please stay. Please._

_Sure, why not? What do we care about how our actions will cause problems for the next generations. It’s the future, who cares about that._

Clarke ends up shutting off her phone and crying herself to sleep. 

\---

It’s early morning the next day, and Clarke stares at the bag she has packed the evening before. It’s now lying next to the door, staring at her like a constant reminder of how much of a mess her life is. 

She has told her parents she’ll celebrate New Year’s Eve with her friends, so she doesn’t have to sit through another long and tiring evening with her Mom and Dad, who’ve got no idea who she actually is. 

But going back means she won’t be alone. And she wanted to be exactly that: alone.

But then again – Lexa seems to be there instead of spending New Years with her friend. Isn’t it sad to be alone at the end of the year? Lexa doesn’t deserve this. 

She should probably just stay here. Yeah. She should.

For some reason she ends up on a train – because being with Lexa beats every other opportunity, beats being alone, beats being sad.

She listens to music during the drive, her personal heroine that she still clings to, despite the fact that she can’t seem to find the right song, with the right lyrics and the right melody to lull her in, to make her feel lighter and to chase her worries away. She rarely gets through a whole song, but it keeps her busy and it shuts the world out.

Back in front of the apartment building she stands underneath a street lamp for a while, staring up to their living room window. Lexa seems to be back already, she seems to be watching tv if the changing light is anything to go by. 

It’s colder now, and Clarke can see her breaths hanging in the air for split seconds, but she finds herself enjoying the silent, peaceful moment alone. With an odd feeling in her stomach she watches as snowflakes settle in her hair. There’s some beauty in it, isn’t it? 

With a deep breath she heads for the front door. Her feet are heavy, but the image of a peaceful night without expectations in sweatpants on the couch keeps her going as she carries her small bag upstairs. Ending the year like that actually sounds nice. 

Not wanting to startle the brunette, she knocks carefully on the apartment door.

“Coming!” Lexa yells, and a moment later the door swings open. 

Surprise. Confusion. Joy. That’s the emotions Clarke finds on Lexa’s face. 

“Clarke.” The girl says. She looks tired, worn out even. 

“Hey.”

“What are you… why are you here?”

“I figured we could end this year together. If you… if that’s okay with you?”

Lexa’s face lights up with a small smile and she steps aside to let Clarke in. “It’s more than okay.”

Clarke quickly drops her bag into her room. When she returns to the living room, she finds Lexa in the very same spot by the door. 

“What?” She asks. 

“You look cute with the snowflakes in your hair.” 

She turns crimson red. Did Lexa just call her cute???

\---

They settle on the couch in mostly silence, only talking about the food they’re going to eat (noodles) and the movie they’re going to watch (none, because they’re still busy watching Wynonna Earp). 

That’s the thing about them. They don’t need many words to understand each other. Sometimes those people are the best kind of people, especially when there are no words for how you feel. 

Halfway through the second episode Lexa suddenly reaches out to pause it. 

Something’s been off, Clarke could feel it, but she didn’t want to push – unsure of the state of their friendship and if they’ve reached the point to ask about things that seem to bother the other one. 

So Lexa stops the episode and turns to face Clarke, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. “Can I tell you about why I’m back here early?”

“You can tell me anything you want to.” Clarke offers with a smile, wrapping her fingers around a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

“I ran into my Dad back home. He’s…” Lexa’s gaze wanders off to some place far. “When he kicked me out, I thought that’s it. I thought he wouldn’t be able to hurt me any further than this, you know?” 

Clarke nods, but she isn’t sure if Lexa notices. 

“But then he found out that I was staying at Anya’s and… he wanted to see if I’m still ‘confused’ or if I’m done playing games. He thinks this is just a joke, that… that I’m a joke. He…” Lexa takes a shuddering breath. “It shouldn’t still hurt, you know? It’s not supposed to hurt like this. I'm happy with who I am. I'm proud of who I am. But why does it still hurt?”

“He’s your Dad.” Clarke says quietly, reaching out to take Lexa’s hand into hers. “He’s an asshole, and he’s wrong, but he’s still your Dad.”

“I don’t want him to be.”

“I know.” 

Lexa hangs her head, trying to hide her tears, but Clarke sees them anyways and scoots closer to wrap the brunette in a hug. If there’s something she has learned from these past months, then that hugging always helps – especially if you don’t want to be hugged. 

“I hate him so much.” Lexa mumbles into Clarke’s neck, the sound sending shivers down Clarke’s spine. 

“I hate him too.” 

Lexa chuckles and pulls back far enough to wipe her tears. “Thanks.” She says quietly, locking her eyes on Clarke’s. 

They’re so green. The storyteller in Clarke suddenly finds her head being flooded with a hundred words to describe them. Her fingers literally itch to write a story just about those eyes, a feeling she hasn’t had in a long time. 

Lexa is still close, just a few inches away. 

Clarke’s throat runs dry. She could count all the pale freckles on Lexa’s nose. The different shades of green mixing in her eyes. The lashes gleaming from the tears Lexa cried just a minute ago. 

But she’s too captivated by how fast her heart is beating. 

She’s written a dozen moments like these, playing on boardwalks, on a beach, on a doorstep or wherever. She has written about heartbeats going crazy, about sweaty palms and dry throats. But feeling how time seems to slow down, seeing a woman like Lexa lean in… 

She knows what’s going to happen. She knows it, she wants it, but it also scares the shit out of her.

“I…”

Lexa smiles, her cheeky and bold smile that catapults Clarke’s heart into unknown heights. “Shh.” 

“Lexa, I haven’t-” _kissed anyone outside of a stupid game of truth and dare._

But Lexa’s hand cups her jaw, and Clarke forgets everything she wanted to say. “Let go. Just for a moment. Can you do that?” 

She nods. She’s got absolutely no idea why or how, but she nods. Damn, she doesn't even want to nod. 

“Good. Close your eyes.”

Clarke does as she was told. She feels Lexa’s breath on her face, and one hand sliding into her hair. And then the softest lips meet hers and she freezes. 

Lexa is kissing her. 

_Lexa_ is kissing her. 

Lexa is _kissing_ her. 

Lexa is kissing _her_.

_Oh my god._

“Clarke.” Lexa whispers against her lips. “Let go.” 

But Clarke can’t. She… she _can’t_

Why does she have to kiss her?

What if this goes wrong? What if Lexa decides that this isn’t what she wants? What if she realizes that she can do so much better than this nerdy, sad girl?

Lexa, the equivalent to beauty and perfection, this wonderful human being – she’s ten steps ahead of Clarke, and she’ll always be. 

And she’s… she’s just Clarke. Some days it’s enough for her, some days it isn’t. She has gotten used to that. But how could she ever be enough for a woman like Lexa Woods? 

Clarke pulls back abruptly. 

She doesn’t hear the noise outside, announcing the start of a new year. She doesn’t hear Lexa calling out for her, nor does she feel Lexa’s elegant fingers trying to catch her by her wrist as she flees to her room. Her door slams behind her, and her hands shakily lock it on their own. 

But all Clarke notices is that overwhelming feeling of fear taking over her body and mind.

She doesn’t feel sad for once, and she should be relieved about that, but there's no time and no place for relief. Lexa kissed her. Goddamn. Only why? Why did she have to do that?

…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there :)  
> Let me just say: wow. Thank you sooo much for the feedback and all the love this story has gotten so far. It's... it's hard to write this sometimes. But it's also really beautiful, and I'm lucky to share it with you.  
> <3 
> 
> It's been a little while, but it needed to feel right before I post it here, and now it finally does.  
> I hope you enjoy.  
> Love,  
> LJT.

…

“Clarke?”

Three knocks on the door. Determined and yet soft. Typical for Lexa.

“Open up. Please.”

Clarke shakes her head, willing the voice in her head to calm down. The voice that keeps planting these bad thoughts in her head. It’s her own, her rational side knows that. She’s her biggest hater. 

She hasn’t always been like this. Sure, she wasn’t the happiest kid on the playground. She wasn’t the carefree teenager surrounded by a group of popular girls. She always felt responsible for others, she put them first – above her own needs and wishes. But she wasn’t sad either. She had friends. Not many, sure, but good ones. Like Raven. 

She can’t say when things have changed, but somewhere along the way hating herself for things she can’t control, for things she doesn’t know, for things she can’t fix, became easier than actually loving herself. And then she spiraled down a dark road. 

“Clarke.” Another tap on the door, softer this time. “Please. Talk to me.” 

She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. 

Why did she run away? Why did she ruin this too? Not the friendship, she’s sure Lexa is too kind and caring for her to be mad or anything. Her knocking proves that. But Clarke ruined the chance she wanted to have, and that’s something she’s mad about. 

She sabotages herself. Constantly. Every day. 

With the way she lets her fears take over her mind. With the way she lets it rule her life. With the way she keeps talking herself out of good things, things that would make her happy probably. And with the way she tears herself down from every high she experiences. 

She just feels so fucking helpless.

“I’ll stay here in front of this door until you let me in.” Lexa speaks up again. She’s worried, her tone is unmistakable. 

Clarke stares at the door, contemplating what to do. Face her? She’d start to cry immediately. 

“I’m sorry.” Lexa rasps. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Sorry? For what? She’s the one who should be sorry, not Lexa. 

“I… Just let me know if you’re okay. Please.” 

“I’m okay.” She croaks, her throat dry and hoarse. “Really.”

Lexa sighs. “Clarke.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Can you let me in?” 

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She tries again. 

“N-not yet.” She finally croaks out.

Her answer feels bigger than this very moment. She’s not only talking about her room. Maybe she’s talking about her heart too. 

“I understand.” 

Did Lexa sound sad? She did, didn’t she? 

Clarke starts feeling bad, but then Lexa speaks up again. 

“And Clarke? Happy new year.” 

“Happy new year, Lex.” She replies quietly, weakly, but with a smile on her lips. 

\---

The thing about this sadness that takes over her head is that it hits unexpectedly, in the most random moments. There doesn’t have to be a trigger, a reason. Even the happiest things weigh her down. 

Like when Lexa kissed her. 

Crazy, right? It’s all she wished for – her crush showing interest in her too. But the simple attraction has turned into something more a while ago, and it’s something she can’t deal with. Not right now at least. 

She’s trying.

But honestly, she can’t seem to get ground beneath her feet. She feels like she’s a hundred miles away from all the people in her life, like she’s up in space somewhere, watching them, unable to take part in their lives. She can’t sleep, can’t meet people’s eyes, can’t engage in a normal communication. She can’t function like a person. 

She probably does. But she feels like she doesn’t. And that’s the thing – she’s overthinking again, desperately trying to find that one piece that’s disarranging all the other parts of her. 

In reality she behaves like nothing’s changed, wearing an almost perfect masquerade. 

Step by step she comes out of her shell after a few days, and she’s even able to stay in one room with Lexa again. Sure, Raven is there too. And later Octavia. But it’s a start, right? Little things. 

She spends a lot of time with Raven, letting herself be dragged out to too loud coffeeshops and that annoying diner Raven loves so much. Her friend has a massive crush on a waiter there, and Clarke plays wingwoman – or maybe she’s just glad that Raven still wants to be friends with her.

“How about you?” Raven suddenly asks on a usual Wednesday afternoon, a few weeks after the New Year’s Eve incident as Clarke dubbed it. 

Clarke’s classes got cancelled and Raven never goes to hers, so they’re in that diner again. It’s raining like the world about to end every minute, or at least that’s what Clarke pictures the end of the world to be like. Her hair is wet because she didn’t think about her umbrella. It’s one of these things she only carries when she doesn’t need them but forgets when she should have them with her. Same goes for handkerchiefs. 

Clarke is drinking a giant smoothie and Raven has her third cup of coffee. It’s noticeable in the way the girl bounces her healthy leg and taps a rhythm on anything she can reach. Coffee and Raven Reyes aren’t exactly a combination Clarke likes. 

“Earth to Griffin. Someone home up there?” Raven taps the side of Clarke’s head.

“What?”

“What’s going on in your love life. Anyone special?”

Clarke thinks of Lexa. Of the little smiles the brunette sends her way, of the little things she does for her. “No.” 

“Aww, come on. Tell me.”

“I’m not dating anyone.” 

“But you’ve got a crush?” 

Clarke blushes and curses her body for being a traitor the very same second. She can already feel her body tensing up, and while her fingers suddenly feel cold, her body temperature rises quickly. The matter is complicated, and just the fact that Raven knows about it puts her under a pressure she hates. 

Raven’s eyes widen in surprise. “You do! Who is it? It’s not Shaw, is it?” 

Clarke closes her eyes. “Please, can we not talk about this?”

“No, no, there’s no way you’re getting out of this. Who is it? Boy or girl? Where did you meet them?”

She should be happy that Raven doesn’t hesitate to ask if it’s a girl. It should make her relax. It doesn’t. 

“Rae, please.” She begs quietly, not able to look up and meet her friend’s eyes. 

“Come on, I’m your best friend. You have to talk about it with me.”

 _No, you aren’t_ , she thinks, _Because if you would be, then you’d let it go if I asked you to._

There it goes again. This sickening, but by now familiar feeling. The weight on her chest, on her shoulders. She can feel it closing in and she can’t do anything about it. She just wants bury herself in her bed again, the place where she finds at least some comfort in. 

She thinks about Lexa. The girl never pushed her, never blamed her. She didn’t pull away, didn’t act any differently – no matter how Clarke tried to find something that was off. Lexa doesn’t pressure her. She accepts. 

And that’s why Clarke pushes back her chair abruptly. 

“I asked to let it go.” She says, maybe a bit too harsh. But right now she doesn’t care. 

The next thing she registers is the bell above the diner door ringing and cold air hitting her face. 

She’s more jogging than walking, ignoring Raven calling her name. 

She needs to get away. 

But more importantly: she needs to get to Lexa. 

\---

By the time she reaches the apartment complex, her clothes stick to her skin and her teeth are clattering. She doesn’t really feel the cold, much like she doesn’t feel a lot these days except sadness and emptiness. And she probably looks like a mess, but she figures it isn’t important to anyone she could come across in the stairways. 

Their apartment lies on the second floor, and when she makes it there, her lungs are aching for oxygen. She’s never been a sports person, so her fitness hasn’t exactly been the best before she started… turning into this shallow version of herself. And recently it feels like her body has to focus his whole energy on keeping her going at all. She doesn’t care about that either as she fumbles for the right keys and unlocks the door. 

“Lexa?”

No answer. 

She hurries to the brunette’s room and knocks, fast and loud. “Lexa!”

In that moment the bathroom door behind her opens and reveals the girl she’s looking for. Lexa’s red socks match her shirt, that’s the first Clarke notices. Lexa’s left hand is in the middle of reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, like she was just about to pull her phone out. And she’s got her hair up in a simple ponytail. Clarke loves it when she wears her hair like that, out of her face. It accentuates her cheekbones and makes the girl even more stunning. 

“Hey! I-” Lexa stops right there. Immediately there’s a worried expression on her face, quickly scanning over Clarke’s appearance. “You okay?”

Clarke doesn’t move and the worried frown on Lexa’s forehead deepens. It’s cute, Clarke thinks. 

Lexa carefully inches closer, cradling Clarke’s face with her hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world, like she might break or fall apart. 

_They’re warm_ , Clarke notices. _So beautifully warm._ She melts into the touch.

“Clarke?” Lexa tries again, but since she doesn’t react, the brunette takes matters into her own hands. “You’re shaking. You’re going to get sick. Let’s get you out of your clothes, okay?” 

Somehow, Clarke manages a nod. But that’s it. She stands still as Lexa carefully unzips the jacket and throws it into the bathroom. She doesn’t blink when Lexa grabs them hem of her hoodie. 

“I need you to raise your arms, okay?”

She does, and Lexa pulls the hoodie over her head. 

No one has ever undressed her since she was a kid, and it’s not how she pictured it happening either. But her brain fails to think much about it, and she lets Lexa guide her into the bathroom.

“I’m going to run a bath for you, okay?” Lexa explains as she feels the temperature of the water. “Can you get in on your own?”

Clarke shakes her head. She probably could, if she’d really force herself, but she can’t find the strength to say something, so there’s a high chance she’d just sit down and wait until the weight on her body lifts itself like it usually does after some time. 

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

Lexa manages to fully undress her without much more of a glance. Clarke would probably chuckle about the respectfulness the brunette shows, about the cute blush on her cheeks and the way Lexa tries really hard not to touch her too much, if all that would really reach her brain. 

A few minutes later Clarke is actually seated in the bathtub, the hot water immediately slowing her thoughts down, like someone pressed pause on an everlasting, overwhelming song.

“I’ll be right outside, okay?”

“No.” She croaks, panic flashing through her eyes at the thought of being left alone. 

She never wanted someone close before when she was feeling like this, though it kind of hasn’t felt like that before. But it’s not just a sadness anymore, it’s… It’s the need of being close to someone. It’s the fear of being alone in this world that keeps changing and spinning faster every second, of not finding her own place in it. 

Today, for once, she can find names for all the things she feels, because she finally, really feels them. 

Lexa stops on her way to the door. “You want me to stay?”

Clarke nods. 

“Okay. I’ll stay.” Lexa says softly, not hesitating one second. She sits down next to the bathtub, with her back against the wall and her legs stretched out, and she… She just stays like this.

Lexa stays.

\---

Time passes slowly. 

But with every second Clarke relaxes more and more. She feels the pain in her shoulders now, the soreness of her muscles. She feels her heart trying to beat slow and steady, like it should do if it wasn’t busy being held back. Her body feels weightless in the hot water, and with Lexa close to her she can accept all that. 

She isn’t alone. 

She never was. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I’m a mess.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. I…” She sighs, rubbing her forehead before washing her face with the warm water. “I feel like everyone is miles away from me, and… I feel like I’m only holding everyone back or annoying them, so I…”

“Clarke. You’re never, ever annoying anyone. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She shakes her head. “My mind is in a dark place. You don’t want to be there, Lexa. I don’t want you to be.”

“Don’t.”

Clarke frowns. “Don’t what?”

Lexa gets on her knees and carefully grabs Clarke’s hand. “Don’t push me out because you feel like you’re all over the place. Let me stay.” 

She feels the quiver before she feels her eyes sting with tears she doesn’t want to cry. She’s cried enough over nothing. 

“Just because you feel like something’s out of place, it doesn’t have to be you.” Lexa continues. “It’s not you. Stop looking for faults when there are none. You’re beautiful, Clarke. In so many ways I can’t even begin to tell.”

The tears fall quickly now, like someone opened flood gates. For a moment she tries to hold them back for a second before she relents. 

“Hey, hey, sshhh. It’s okay. You’re okay. What can I do? Tell me, please.”

Clarke just sobs harder, pulling up her knees and resting her face in her arms. The water isn’t warm anymore, but maybe that’s just in her head, like everything else too.

“Tell me, what can I do?” Lexa pleads again. She runs her fingers through Clarke’s hair, trying to soothe her.

And it works. Usually she feels like screaming when someone touches her, even by accident. Like they might jumble the tiny pieces of herself, making her fall apart into the mess she really is. But not with Lexa. 

"Hold me." Clarke finally whispers, her voice breaking. "Just... Just hold me, please?" 

She doesn’t register that Lexa gets up immediately, but what she does feel is when Lexa steps into the bathtub behind her a second later. 

Clarke wants to protest, to tell Lexa that her request was stupid and that the girl is still wearing her jeans and shirt. But she doesn’t, because Lexa wraps her arms around her from behind and pulls her in without thinking twice.

"It's gonna be okay." Lexa says softly.

Right now, in this very moment, Clarke believes her. And it’s the best feeling in the world. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost finished.  
> Thoughts? Wishes? Ideas? Hopes? :) Leave a comment if you can, please!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for all those of you, who need it.
> 
> For the beautiful souls who want to believe but can't find the strenght. 
> 
> This one is for all of you who need to know that it's okay to not be okay. 
> 
> And for those of you who simply enjoy stories because they take you somewhere else for a little moment.

…

“Can I ask you something?”

It’s almost midnight, and they’re lying on Clarke’s bed. Next to each other, but far enough apart so they don’t touch. 

Clarke isn’t sure she could take being touched right now, and Lexa seems to magically know that. 

“Hm?”

Lexa bites her lip before she speaks. “Did you… I mean, when I kissed you...”

“And I ran off?”

“Yeah. Umm… Was it because it was too soon or because you didn’t want it?”

Clarke turns her head to see the expression on Lexa’s face, because she can’t make out what’s going through the other girl’s mind. 

But Lexa lies still next to her, facing the ceiling, arms folded on her stomach. 

“I wanted it.” She quietly admits. 

A small smile ghosts over Lexa’s face. “Yeah?” 

“But I’m not in a good place right now, and I… I don’t know if I can be what you…” Clarke shrugs, not wanting to finish the sentence. 

Lexa turns her head, her eyes looking more blue than green now as they bore into Clarke’s. Like two endless oceans in which Clarke can drown in. They look so sad, almost as sad as Clarke feels.

“What I deserve?” Lexa finishes the sentence. “You’re more than what I probably deserve.”

“That’s not true.”

Lexa chuckles. “How about we accept that we’re both pretty great people then, huh?”

Clarke doesn’t reply to that. Her thoughts drift back to the bathtub, to the way Lexa acted. She felt so safe in her arms, so accepted. 

But she just isn’t the person Lexa sees in her. How could she be if she can’t even get out of bed without this weight clinging to her shoulders like some koala. 

So she doesn’t answer. Because even if she wanted to, she couldn’t get out any words. Lexa deserves the truth, but she can’t say that right now. She can’t. 

\----

 

It’s just a usual morning the next day, not even 4 a.m.. It’s way too early for her to be awake. But she couldn’t really sleep, so she tried to write down her thoughts, tried to turn them into something beautiful for the people who miraculously keep reading her stuff. 

And somehow – like it happens a lot these days – her thoughts drifted to Lexa and her fingers freeze above the keyboard of her laptop. 

_Bittersweet._

As someone who loves everything about stories and words, that’s the only word she can think of. 

Like craving something so badly that it takes your breath away, and when you have it it’s over in a heartbeat. Like moments of pure joy, you’re trying to chase, but never really get a hold on. Or those moments long gone, out of reach. 

That’s how it feels to spend time with Lexa. 

And Lexa… she’s out of this world. 

The way she hops around the room when she tries to put on her chucks, almost falling over. The way she laughs and tries to keep her hair out of her face. The way her eyes always find back to Clarke’s, as if they’re checking if she’s smiling like she’s supposed to. And Clarke does every time. How could she not?

These little moments mean so much to her. 

Clarke tries to focus on the story again. But the blinking cursor feels like a middle finger. Like a “Fuck you!” from universe. Because her mind is empty. There’s no picture in her head, no scene to write. 

She feels hollow and tired, her bones ache and no matter how often she tells Lexa that she finds enough sleep (which she actually does) it feels like a lie. But she could sleep forty-eight hours and it still wouldn’t be enough. So, what’s the difference? 

She runs her fingers through her hair. 

“Come on.” She curses at her laptop, at her fingers that just won’t type the words on their own as usual. 

She needs the outlet. She feels like choking without it. 

And that’s when another word comes to her mind. 

_Love._

She often thinks about what it means, what it feels like. Even though she constantly writes about love, she isn’t sure she believes in it herself. Not sure she wants to.

It’s because of her parents probably. Some time ago her mother loved her father. She had to. But time, life, changed that. It took little fragments of that love and replaced it with something else, piece by piece. And like that, their love turned into daily routines, into discussions and little fights, into build-up and unresolved anger. Into a hollowness that’s visible in both her parent’s eyes. 

She doesn’t want that to happen with Lexa. 

It’s not some big realization. Not even some big wow-moment, with fireworks in her head or heart. She doesn’t even get shaky knees or butterflies, she’s way past that stage. 

It’s just this thought: she doesn’t want that to happen with Lexa. 

She can’t lose the calmness Lexa brings her, nor the little snippets of happiness Lexa’s messages or smiles. She can’t lose the laughter, the easiness, the feeling like she can breathe again. The ground beneath her feet – she couldn’t take losing that again. Not when she only just got it back. 

So maybe it’s better if she keeps it to herself. If she locks it in her heart and protects it. Just for a while. 

\---

“Clarke.” 

She looks up to meet Raven’s worried gaze. She’s gotten used to that look, it’s almost comforting by now to know that someone cares. A lot of people do, she knows that too, but it’s always like a band-aid for her heart. Not enough, but still nice.

Raven crosses the small distance and leans against the kitchen counter, nibbling at her bottom lip. “I’m sorry for pushing.”

“It’s okay.” Clarke replies quickly, eyes focused on everything but her friend’s face. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have run off.” 

“No, it’s not. You asked me to let it go and I didn’t.”

“It’s okay, really-”

Raven tilts her head. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I’m fine.” 

For once, it’s not a lie. She’s fine. Not great, but fine. Being in love with Lexa Woods does that to her.

\---

There’s been that song on the radio around lunchtime. She isn’t sure who decides what songs they play, but it’s been enough to bring her down again.

_I’ll be good._

But what if she can’t? 

_I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good._

The words stick to her bones like a mantra for the rest of the day.

\---

This evening her mother calls. And somehow, Clarke can’t remember how they even reach that topic, Abby asked if Clarke hadn’t met some cute boy yet. It would be time. She should gain more experiences. 

It’s so stupid.

Clarke had just come out of the shower, she was in jeans and a bra. She was feeling okay. Washing her face and taking a shower always helps. She was actually feeling pretty great, even humming along to a song Octavia played in the kitchen while making dinner. 

And then her Mom happened, like the hurricane she can be.

As soon as she hangs up, the weight is back. It starts clinging to things she didn’t mind thinking about before. Things like future, love, writing. Lexa. 

Her Mom knows she’s bisexual. Or she’s supposed to know, since Clarke told her. She’s supposed to give her space and time to figure things out. To figure herself out. It’s not like everyone needs a relationship or a boyfriend. It’s not an obligation to experiment and to go on dates with people she doesn’t like. It’s not.

But… 

That’s it. But. There’s always a but. 

But maybe it would be easier. 

But maybe she wouldn’t feel alone. 

But if she had a boyfriend, she’d fit in. 

But what if there wouldn’t be a but?

And something snaps. Clarke decides she doesn’t want that. Not now, not today. Every other day, fine. But not today, not now. She just can’t take being sad today. 

She grabs a pen and starts to write. Everything she can think of, she puts down on paper. She probably looks like she’s gone crazy, like a maniac. Some of her sentences don’t even make sense. Sometimes it’s only a word.

When writing on paper isn’t fast enough anymore, she switches to her laptop. Fills three pages within the span of a few minutes, with her legs bouncing up and down fast and angry. And then she types Lexa’s name wrong three times in a row and she slams the laptop shut, cursing loudly. 

She can’t be either scared or sad all the time. She can’t live like that, it’s not a life. 

Lexa is the only one who makes her feel good things, like happiness and joy. She’s the one who gets through to her, pulls her out of that dark place in her mind. She makes her smile like no one else can these days. 

And Clarke loves her. For that and for her smile. For her ability to coax Clarke out of her shell, for her patience, her gentleness. For the stories she tells about the people in her life. For how she respectful she still speaks about her father, who hurt her so badly. For her clumsiness, the adorable pout and the twinkle in her eyes when she’s about to do something bold. For the fact that she isn’t afraid of anything, but of snails. For the little smileys she draws on every note – Clarke keeps them all. For the fact that Lexa doesn’t know how beautiful she really is, inside and out. Hell, Clarke even loves her for the fact that Lexa can’t whistle.

She just simply loves her and it fills her body with nothing but warmth and happiness when she thinks about it. 

It’s crazy, because her heart should worry about itself, it should try to fix itself. And still it found time and strength to fall for Lexa’s. 

That has to mean something. 

But maybe it hasn’t been broken. Maybe she’s not fucked up, unworthy, ugly or whatever word she comes up to describe herself with. Maybe she’s not lost, not a hopeless case. Maybe she’s worth being loved – despite or even because of all her little faults and quirks. 

And maybe that’s the thing about love. It’s just getting more and more, adding to your soul like the wonderful thing it is, without making good the damage your past has left you with. Perhaps it just keeps getting more and more, until this side of you is so much stronger and bigger than the dark places in your mind. 

And maybe, just maybe, Lexa loves her too?

\---

“Lex?”

Lexa looks up from the book in her hands. It’s the same one Clarke has seen her with for a few days now, some mystery thriller that would leave herself with nightmares. 

“Hey.” She says with the same softness in her voice that’s always there. 

Clarke stares for a moment, but then she decides that she has waisted enough time already. “You scare me.” 

Lexa frowns. It’s the cutest expression in existence and Clarke’s heart leaps. 

“What?” Lexa laughs – the beautiful, confused kind of laugh – and puts aside her book while she sits up.

“You scare me.” She repeats, as she steps closer to the couch, her hands shaking. “So much. Like… you don’t have an idea how much.” She laughs nervously.

Lexa pats the couch, her eyes roaming Clarke’s face worriedly. 

Clarke’s throat is dry, but it gets only worse the longer Lexa looks at her. She opens her mouth to speak, but after failing to form words she closes it again. 

There’s a moment of hesitation in Lexa’s movement, but then she reaches out to touch Clarke’s face. Her fingers meet her chin, just for a split second, before they move over her jawline and push a few strands of hair behind Clarke’s ears. “You were there.”

It’s Clarke turn to frown. There? Where?

“In summer.” Lexa adds with a crooked smile, her fingers tangling in Clarke’s hair. “I helped a friend with their family restaurant. You where there with Raven and Octavia. I saw you the minute you entered. You wore those ripped boyfriend jeans, and that navy-blue shirt that fits your eyes.” 

Clarke swallows. 

_Of course she remembers._ Lexa, who knew all their schedules within two days. Lexa, who knows all the baristas names in their favorite coffeeshop. Lexa, who never forgets anything.

“You looked sad that evening, and I remember wanting to bring you something sweet to make you smile, but then I thought it would be too creepy.” Lexa continues, her eyes green and vivid. But Clarke can only focus on her lips. 

“You remember.” 

“You looked so damn beautiful, Clarke. Of course I do.” 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Because I wasn’t sure you’d remember me. And then I… I don’t know. For the longest time I thought you wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Like the wonderful being you are?”

Lexa chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” 

“Why do I scare you?”

Clarke sighs. “Because everything scares me. And you… you’re you. And I’m just… me.” 

Lexa opens her mouth to protest, but Clarke shakes her head. 

“For the last years I spent so much time hating myself. And you… you came along and took it away. And every time I’m around you, I feel… great. Sometimes even beautiful.”

“Clarke-”

“I tried to protect myself from that because I’m so used to hating myself and… to the sadness that I randomly feel about the littlest things. It scares me not feeling it, which is kind of crazy, I know, but-”

“No. It’s not.”

Clarke meets Lexa’s gaze, surprised by the answer. “It’s not?”

“No, not at all.”

For a while they just stare at each other, maybe get a little lost in their heads too. Lexa plays with a strand of Clarke’s hair – a fact that Clarke’s whole body is strangely aware of. 

“Lex?”

“Hm?”

“Can you kiss me again?” 

A heartbeat. 

Two. 

Lexa smiles and laughs. “Of course I can.” She gets on her knees, bumping a little into Clarke’s as she settles closer. 

She can feel Lexa’s breath on her face. Her heartbeat slows down, while every cell in her body suddenly seems to burn. Maybe there are suddenly thousands of nerve cells waking up from a hibernation, who knows. 

Lexa cups Clarke’s cheek softly, her fingers warm and careful, as if she was afraid Clarke would disappear. “You’re so damn beautiful, inside and out. I’m going to make you see that too. I promise.” She says, right before she connects their lips. 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you.  
> This is the most personal thing I've ever written, I think.
> 
> Consider this a digital hug to everyone out there seeing this.  
> Until next time, for a new story. 
> 
> Subscribe on my profile to keep updated on every story that's going to come. I've got a few ideas in mind. Hope to see you there next year <3<3<3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey you.  
> Still out there? I know it's been... forever. I'm sorry for not posting in months. I haven't written anything useful in just as long and it's driving me crazy. Life has been busy and eventful and pretty okay. I've been doing better. A lot better. 
> 
> I had this story finished with the last chapter, but i couldn't find sleep and this... well. This is the outcome. I hope you don't mind. Maybe there'll be more.  
> As for "lullaby without you" - I'm trying. I'm really trying. And there'll be more. I just still don't know when. 
> 
> Let me know how you're doing? 
> 
> Love,  
> LJT.

The thing about life is that it doesn’t always give you what you want. It’s not much actually that most people want. A good life – a job that doesn’t bore you to death and leaves you room to breathe, a place to call home, someone to come home to, tiny little extras here and there, like going to see a movie, weekend trips and occasional visits in some restaurant. 

That’s what Clarke wants. That’s all she wants actually. 

The thing with these simple dreams is, they aren’t as simple as it seems. Not for her, maybe not for anyone. 

There’s lots of good days now. Days when she wakes up with a smile due to this one girl who can light up the world for her. Days when she can’t stop smiling for more than a few minutes because Lexa would always – always – find a way to make everything better. Even with little things, like coffee in the morning or texts during classes. Sometimes it’s even just a look, the kind that says ‘I’m here’ or ‘I get you’. 

On some days she falls asleep in Lexa’s arms now. On some days she’s holding the brunette in hers. They don’t spend much time apart, always close in a way, always touching. 

And god, how much she makes Clarke feel. She feels everything now, loud and clear and so powerful that it’s sometimes overwhelming. It’s almost like someone switches the light on. Yeah. That’s a metaphor Clarke likes. Lexa brought light in her life. 

It’s only been a few weeks, but… God does she bring her light and joy. 

But it still doesn’t keep the darkness out. It’s a mystery to Clarke how there’s even space left for anything else, how even one cell in her body can hold onto this dark and miserable feeling. 

Doubts and self-hatred, feelings of unworthiness and fear – they all keep nagging on her, clinging to her bones. They hide well and most days she’s able to forget about them. 

The cruel thing about it is that she thinks they’re gone for good now every time they leave. She wakes up with a smile, laughs over coffee, has a successful day, goes out with Lexa or watches a movie with Raven – doesn’t matter. She keeps repeating the pattern, with little variations here and there. And then, out of the blue, the feelings are all back. 

Clarke turns her head, eyes roaming over Lexa’s features barely visible in the dim light of the night. She yawns and shivers, pulling the blanket a little higher. 

It’s late. Almost midnight. 

She knows she should wake Lexa, she promised the last time the feeling was back. 

But she can’t bring herself to do so. Why should she? 

Just because she can’t block this feeling out, because she’s weak and stupid and a mess, it doesn’t have to cost them both this night of sleep. 

And it’s like an old friend. God, she has spent some many nights like this. Motionless in bed, staring into the darkness with burning eyes and heavy bones. 

All these thoughts don’t scare her anymore. And maybe that should scare her for real, maybe it should make her say ‘stop’ but… 

What’s the use in all of this? Where does she belong in this world? 

She carefully reaches for Lexa’s hand. Her skin is warm against her own, and the brunette subconsciously intertwines their fingers. It makes it a tiny bit better. 

They’ve been taking things slow. Stealing soft kisses, occasionally less soft ones, hiding away in their rooms where they’re safe and protected. Where Clarke feels safe and protected. 

No one outside of their apartment knows about them yet officially, only Raven and Octavia. They couldn’t hide the fact that they’re sharing a bed more often than not for more than a week. 

They’re not actually hiding, neither Clarke nor Lexa has a reason to do so. But Clarke hasn’t told her parents yet and she didn’t tell some friends from class either. 

Only sometimes she wishes she could shout it from the rooftop. The fact that they didn’t yet keeps nagging on her a tiny bit. Fears are one scary thing. And she definitely has a lot of them. 

What if Lexa hides it because she’s embarrassed? What if she hides it because she’s not in it as much as Clarke is? What if she’s investing too much of her heart? What if…? 

Her heart tells her Lexa feels the same. She can read it in those green eyes, can hear it in her voice in the early morning when Clarke’s name is the first word falling from Lexa’s lips, can feel it in little touches and stolen kisses. 

Just sometimes her mind spirals out of control. And when it does there’s no turning back. It keeps spiraling further and further into the darkness. 

What would she leave behind if she left today. Would anyone remember her in a few years. Who would miss her. She can’t get anything right. Everything she touches goes up in flames. She’s someone who destroys. She’s nothing. She’s a nobody. 

The words repeat in her head. Again. And again. And again. 

Clarke takes a shaky breath. 

_None of that is true, not one word_ , she tells herself, but the feeling keeps getting stronger. 

Tears burn in her eyes and she chokes down a sob. 

She can’t even say where it came from. One minute she was fine and the next she wasn’t. 

When it feels like it’s getting too much she quietly slips out of bed and trots to the bathroom. The bright light hurts her eyes, but it’s something else than numbness and sadness, so she ignores it and splashes cold water into her face. 

She places her shaky hands on the sink, holding onto it because she isn’t sure her feet carry her. Why would they if she keeps torturing herself with the same dreading thoughts time and time again? What’s the use?

The bathroom door creaks and Lexa slips in, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “Clarke.” She says. 

There’s something in the way she says her name that has her heart skipping beats every time. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I…” She doesn’t want to lie, not to Lexa. 

And Lexa stares into her eyes for a long moment, meeting them in the mirror as she walks closer. Then the girl wraps her arms around Clarke’s waist and pulls her close. “It’s okay.”

A tear slips out. “No, it’s not. Why does it…” Clarke sinks back into the taller girl’s body. “Why does it come back all the time?”

Lexa places a small kiss against her temple and Clarke’s eyes fall shut. “Because you’re human.” 

“I don’t want to feel like that.”

“I know.”

“I don’t even have a reason.”

“You don’t need a reason to feel something. Sometimes there’s a trigger, but… Don’t overthink it. Feel it. And then walk away.”

Clarke opens her eyes to meet Lexa’s again. “What if I can’t?” She asks. 

That’s one of the many things she loves about Lexa. She can talk about anything with her. They don’t always have the same opinions but it doesn’t cause discords in their relationship. Or whatever they have. 

“You can.”

“But what if I can’t?” She repeats again, understanding now that it’s exactly that fear that gets to her the most. “What if I’ll never leave it behind?”

Lexa stares into her eyes for a long moment before pulling back. She carefully makes Clarke turn around and cups her face gently with both hands. “You can. And whenever you feel like you can’t do it alone, you’ll take my hand and we’ll do it together.” 

_Love._

That’s what she sees in Lexa’s eyes. What she hears in her voice, in every word she speaks. 

“Okay.” Clarke nods quietly, leaning her forehead against Lexa’s and taking a shaky breath.

They stay like this for a long moment, time passing slower and without them noticing. It happens a lot, Clarke notices. An hour feels like a millennium and like a second at the same time. 

She feels Lexa’s hands running down her arms and taking her hands. “Come.” The girl whispers. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Clarke follows, not letting go for one second. She might fall apart again if she did. But Lexa… the girl is so good to her. For her. 

Lexa opens her arms for Clarke to sleep in, and a moment later she’s listening to the brunette’s heartbeat. “You comfortable?” Lexa asks quietly, her fingers running softly through Clarke’s hair. 

“Mhm.” 

“Wake me up if they come back. No matter what time or what day.”

“Lex-“

“I mean it. I want you to wake me up.” Lexa insists. “Okay?”

“Okay.” 

She never thought she’d have that. She hoped she would, but… A part of her kept telling her it’s all illusion and just stories. She never believed – neither in love the way people described it nor in feeling it herself. She thought maybe it’s her destiny to end alone, maybe it’s a writer’s fate to fall in love a thousand times as thousand different characters, but not as a person themselves. 

But now she feels herself falling. And it’s not like falling, not like some process, it’s… It’s like Lexa is the only thing that’s making sense. 

Sometimes she wishes Lexa would say it. Would say the three words they both know they feel. But there’ll come a time for that. 

Lips softly meet her forehead. “Close your eyes.” Lexa says quietly. 

“Can you say it?” 

The arms around her tighten a little. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Clarke nods and does close her eyes. _I love you._

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts? Or just shout at me, say hello... Whatever you feel like, okay?
> 
>  
> 
> For A.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you can, they mean the world <3  
> And come talk to me on twitter @LjThron :)


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